I gave in—just a little—rocking forward and back, chasing the pressure, the friction, the almost of what could happen. He pressed in again, rubbing himself against me.
A broken sound slipped out before I could stop it.
“Graham—I?—”
His hands tightened at my hips, pulling me harder against him, guiding my hips, grinding my pussy onto him. The world narrowed to just the heat and breath and the way my body stopped following its orders.
Oh, God. I wanted to come right then, right on his thigh, leaving my mark so he’d have a reminder of what he threw away.
Then the sharp rasp of his zipper broke through it. My eyes flew open, and reality hit like ice.
“Graham—” My voice cracked as I pushed against his chest, breath uneven. “Stop.”
Everything stilled.
The night rushed back in around us—cool air, distant noise, the hard line of the wall at my back.
He braced one arm above my head, holding himself there, close enough that I could still feel his heart beating in his chest.
Not touching.
Not moving.
Just watching me from under his brow.
And somehow, that restraint hurt worse than if he hadn’t stopped at all.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered. “Not like this.”
I forced myself to meet his gaze—drowning in those storm-dark eyes for one reckless heartbeat. My fingers brushed his cheek, lingering longer than they should have.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Come over tonight. It’ll take the edge off.” I let out a breath. “I owe it to Hunter to follow his rules.”
For a second, he didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
Like something in him was deciding whether he would remain standing or crumble to ash.
His chest rose slowly, then again—sharper this time, like he was dragging air through fire. The heat between us didn’t fade—it coiled, unsure if it wanted to ignite or go out.
His hand lifted, stopping just short of my waist like he couldn't quite stop himself, but he didn't touch me, just let out a long, controlled breath like I had forced him back into his cage.
Slowly, he let it fall.
The sound of his zipper closing cut clean through the space between us.
“Yeah,” he said, voice low, roughened at the edges. His jaw flexed once. “Wouldn’t want to break the rules.”
His eyes were still on my lips when he stepped back, and I walked away from him. It was like trying to breathe underwater.
I gave Graham a minute to pull himself together, let things simmer down before I pushed the door open into the casino.
Hunter spotted me instantly and swooped in, voice clipped with irritation.
“Where in the bloody hell have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere. We’re on in—” He flicked his watch. “Three minutes!” His hand grabbed my arm tighter than I preferred as his eyes dropped to my mouth before he steered me backstage. “We’re announcing several categories tonight, and I need you focused. This is my night. Don’t embarrass me.”
Embarrass him? His night? I thought it wasournight. And what aboutmyaward?
